To exit a labyrinth
by renrenren3
Summary: After we watched 1x11, my sister asked me how Arthur and Merlin got out of the labyrinth. "Same way they got in?" I said. "But they'd never find the exit, they'd keep arguing like idiots," she said. Then I wrote this. Friendship or pre-slash.


**Notes:** This fic was beta'd by kathkin (from LiveJournal). If there's anything wrong it's because I was too stubborn to listen to her.

-x-

Merlin sat on the seashore by himself for a long time after Anhora left. He stared at Arthur's unmoving body and tried unsuccessfully to think about nothing while he waited for him to come back to life.

It was too difficult to ignore the the terrible risk that Arthur had just taken. How close he'd been to dying.

Merlin ended up going over and over the afternoon's events, his heart still beating wildly in his chest as he remembered Arthur's pale face as he raised the goblet and drank. Time and again he had to remind himself that Arthur was sleeping. Just sleeping.

He still wasn't completely sure that Anhora could be trusted, and as the hours passed without Arthur waking up, he became increasingly worried. What if Arthur had been poisoned after all? What if he really did die?

When Arthur finally blinked and pushed himself up into a sitting position, Merlin was so relieved that he forgot he was angry at Arthur's stupidity.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, his voice unsteady and his eyes still unfocused, looking first at Merlin and then at the discarded goblets. As he helped Arthur back to his feet, Merlin had to explain how apparently the keepers of the unicorns held reckless stupidity in high regard and had therefore decided to spare Camelot.

By the end of the tale Arthur had woken up completely and was wearing an insufferably smug look on his face, as if drinking poison had always been the logical option instead of a last, desperate gesture.

He also complained about being sore from lying around in his armour for hours, and obviously he had to make it sound as if it was Merlin's fault.

As if he could have conjured a mattress out of thin air! To be fair, Merlin probably _could_, but he'd been too busy worrying about Arthur's life to think about it. Not that he would ever admit it, of course - Arthur was too full of himself already.

"You could at least have fetched the water skin from my horse," Arthur said, dangerously close to pouting. "My throat is parched and that poison left a foul taste in my mouth."

"I'm terribly sorry about that, sire," Merlin replied with a snort. "Maybe next time you'll let me drink the poison in your stead."

When Arthur looked startled, Merlin realized what he had said and looked away. It was the closest either of them had come to mentioning that they'd been willing to trade their lives for each other, and he didn't really want to get into that. He didn't want to explain about Arthur's destiny, and he certainly couldn't talk about magic and dragons.

And there was no way Merlin could say simply 'I didn't want you to die!'

Arthur seemed reluctant to talk as well. He cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly. "Come on," he said. "I want to get out of the labyrinth before nightfall."

Merlin looked at the sky. Sure enough, the sun was already setting in the west. They'd been on the rocky beach for hours. It would be even more difficult to find their way back in the dark, and Merlin didn't fancy spending the night out in the open, especially not on an empty stomach.

Arthur led the way to the entrance of the labyrinth, then stopped to look at the paths branching in front of them. "This way," he said eventually, taking the left fork.

-x-

Merlin followed Arthur in silence for a while as they took a few more twists and turns, until he couldn't hold back the question any longer. "Are you sure this is the right way?" he asked.

Arthur turned to face him. "Of course I'm sure, Merlin," he snapped, looking annoyed and affronted (which is to say, not all that different from the way he usually looked).

"Okay," Merlin replied quickly, and Arthur seemed to consider this reaction suitably meek since he didn't make any further comments. They walked for several more minutes as the shadows around them grew longer and darker.

After a while the last rays of light disappeared, and at the next fork in the path Arthur had to stop and squint both directions for a long time before choosing one.

Merlin was sure that he was utterly lost, even though the idiot would cut off his own arm before admitting it.

It was getting difficult to keep up with Arthur's long strides. "Stop dawdling and hurry up," Arthur said when he noticed that Merlin had fallen behind. He sounded more annoyed that he was honestly entitled to, considering that he was fresh from his nap while Merlin was getting sleepy and hadn't eaten anything since morning.

Arthur tapped his feet and huffed as Merlin hurried to catch up with him, and Merlin decided that since they were not in mortal danger any more he could safely go back to hating Arthur's guts after all.

"Wait, this can't be the right way," Merlin said, looking at the crossroad in front of them.

Arthur gave him a look that Merlin understood to mean _you're an idiot_. He had several such looks, with varying degrees of intensity. Right now Arthur was mildly irritated, but still not outright angry.

"Oh, really?" Arthur replied. "And since when do _you_ have any sense of direction, Merlin?"

Which wasn't fair, because Merlin had only got lost while hunting once, and that had been because Arthur had ran off and left him alone in a part of forest that he didn't know. Arthur was excessively fond of the story.

"Maybe you have a better sense of direction than me," Merlin conceded. Arthur snorted and mouthed _maybe_. "But I have better memory, and I remember going past this crossroad once already."

Arthur looked around. "That was when you came in. Of course you'd have passed through here already." He was trying to sound nonchalant, but Merlin noticed the hesitation in his voice. Arthur squatted on the ground to peer closely at a set of muddy tracks.

"We have to go back and turn right at the last fork," Merlin insisted. But Arthur, of course, decided to be unreasonably pig-headed about it.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, gesturing to the ground in front of him. "These clearly mean that we're going in the right direction." Merlin leaned forward and peered over Arthur's shoulder at the muddy footprints.

It was dark, and he was bad at following tracks even under better circumstances, but even so he was sure that this wasn't the right direction. "There's no way to tell which way these tracks are going," he said after a while. "It looks just like mud to me."

"_Exactly_," Arthur replied, pushing himself up to his feet and almost making Merlin lose his balance as he quickly stepped back. "You know nothing about following a trail, and that's why we're going this way."

Merlin let out his most theatrical sigh as he watched Arthur head off along what was, most definitely, not the path that led outside.

-x-

"I don't want to say this..." Merlin called tentatively after several more minutes.

"Then don't say it."

Arthur's voice came from a few feet in front of Merlin. The night was dark, the moon and the stars were hidden behind clouds, and all that Merlin could see of Arthur was a shadow among the dark shapes of the hedges.

"We're walking in circles," Merlin said.

"Merlin," Arthur began, but Merlin had had enough of it. He was hungry and cold and didn't care about pissing off Arthur any more.

"Just admit that you're lost already," he snapped.

"I'm _not_ lost," Arthur snapped back, which was a bold claim to make for someone who'd been walking around the same corners for the best part of the last hour.

"Yeah?" Merlin replied, pulling a face even though he knew Arthur wouldn't able to see him. He hoped his sarcastic tone would be enough to drive the point home. "So why is it taking you so long to find the exit? It didn't take me so long on the way in."

Arthur stomped noisily back to where Merlin was standing. "That," he hissed, "was because you got yourself _kidnapped_ and the guardian carried you through the quickest route."

Which was true enough, but it seemed to Merlin that there was no need to make him sound as if he was some damsel in distress. They'd _both_ been at Anhora's mercy. Yet trust Arthur to forget that little detail. Arthur was the brave warrior! Arthur had a shiny sword! Arthur went to the rescue! Arthur didn't get lost in labyrinths!

"Are you listening to me at all?"

Arthur poked Merlin in the chest, disrupting his trail of thoughts. "You're free to go off and get lost on your own. "I'm not forcing you to follow me," Arthur said, which was, in Merlin's opinion, a spectacular way of missing the point. It wasn't as if Arthur ever had to _force_ anyone, since he always got his way by pouting, cajoling or, well, being Arthur.

"There's no way I'd leave you alone and completely lost in a magical labyrinth," Merlin replied, and if he hadn't known Arthur better he could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief. It was probably just the wind. "So, the way out..."

"It's forward," Arthur replied immediately.

Merlin shook his head. "Whatever," he sighed. There was no point arguing, and with some luck they'd get out of there before they starved. "Sire," he added hastily as Arthur grabbed his wrist, but it wasn't the breach of protocol that bothered Arthur.

"Don't get too far behind, or you'll get lost," Arthur said, walking off. "It's pitch dark," he added, rather unnecessarily, and didn't let go of Merlin's arm.

Merlin felt he had to complain about being dragged around unceremoniously like that, but then Arthur caught him as he tripped over his own feet.

"Seriously, Merlin," Arthur muttered, and Merlin decided to let it pass just this once.

He was still sleepy and they were still lost and Arthur was still acting like a prat, but they were both alive. He could afford to let Arthur drag him around for a little longer.


End file.
